


Scenes Aboard a Starship

by kerithwyn



Series: FringeTrek [9]
Category: Fringe, Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 7,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerithwyn/pseuds/kerithwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moments aboard the USS <i>William Bell</i>. Nonsequential, unrelated unless noted. Mostly gen, some pairings. Chapters labeled [After Hours] contain more specifically sexual content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lincoln and Olivia

**Author's Note:**

> See [the crew roster](http://archiveofourown.org/works/733933/chapters/1378353) for more information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Captain Olivia Dunham  
> Commander Lincoln Lee, First Officer
> 
> Post-"Mirror, Darkly."

"Come here often?"

Lincoln started from where he'd been hunched over a table, studying crew reports on his PADD. The mess was usually silent in the middle of gamma shift, and he'd been so engrossed in his reading that he hadn't even heard the door swish open.

He looked up into his captain's face. "Well, as far as twenty-four hour dining goes, this place is better than most. You know, they make a pretty good cup of coffee if you want to join me."

She just smiled and went over to the synthesizer and then to the covered plate set to one side of the food slot, returning after a moment with a cup of coffee and a slice of peach pie. She set the latter on the table between them, along with two forks.

Lincoln huffed a laugh. "Yeoman Manning baked that for Peter."

"I'm sure he won't mind sharing." Olivia raised her cup to him in brief salute and drank. "Hm. The coffee is better."

"I think Sam fiddled with the program. Olivia, why are you awake?"

She set her cup down, avoiding his eyes, and picked up a fork. She toyed with it for a moment, then sighed. "Just couldn't sleep. Thinking about the other universe."

Lincoln paused, considering. Olivia had given a thorough debrief, although Lincoln and Peter both suspected she'd held back mission-irrelevant but distressing personal details. Now wasn't a good time to press her for those--no time would be--but if something specific was bothering her.... "That sounded like a particularly rotten one."

"It had moments." Olivia grimaced and put her fork down without touching the pie. "But it wasn't completely warped. Frank seemed mostly the same. You..." she lifted her eyes, a smile starting to play on her mouth. "Ditto, although the other Commander Lee did something spiky with his hair."

From her account, his alternate self had risked a lot to help Olivia escape. Lincoln was grateful for that. The other part sounded dubious, though. "Not high on my priority list. Not on my list at all. But I'm glad he decided to help."

"I hope he doesn’t pay too dearly for it." Olivia took another gulp of coffee and picked up her fork again with a purposeful air. "We shouldn't let this go to waste."

Lincoln gamely helped her finish off the pie, though it was too sweet for his taste. Olivia nodded toward his PADD. "Anything interesting? And you never said why you were up."

"Nothing of note, and just one of those nights, I guess." Lincoln abandoned the idea that Olivia might confess her troubles tonight; the moment had passed. "I recommend you try to get some rest for the next--" he checked the chronometer on the wall-- "three hours or so."

"I will if you will," she countered, and that seemed to be the best bargain he could make.

Back in the privacy of his quarters, Lincoln let himself sigh and wish, just for a minute, that Olivia might one day be willing to truly drop her guard with him. But only for a minute.


	2. Charlie/Sonia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lieutenant Commander Charlie Francis, Security Chief and Second Officer  
> Crewman Third Class Sonia Francis, Yeoman

"Hey, babe?"

Charlie knew that tone of voice. That tone of voice always meant that Sonia had something to tell him, something she was nervous about.

He glanced over to where she was skimming neatly out of her uniform and into off-duty clothes. He loved how proud she was of the uniform, even if "Crewman Third Class" meant she barely ranked above the ship's cats.

"I, uh. Stopped by Sickbay today." Sonia bit her lip but she was smiling and Charlie knew it'd only be another second before--

"Our tests came back clear," she blurted out. "Dr. Stanton says we're good to go and he can take out the contraceptive implants at any time." 

Sonia was beaming, her face lit with joy, and Charlie felt himself grinning back at her. "So does that mean--"

"Yeah," she breathed, and launched herself at him. Charlie had been braced for the maneuver and caught his wife in mid-air, swinging her around and bringing her in for a kiss.

She kissed him hungrily, her hands already tugging at his uniform shirt. Charlie laughed and set her back down. "The implants, honey."

"Practice run," Sonia said, her fingers now busy on his pants, and Charlie was disinclined to argue with her logic.


	3. Peter/Lincoln

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Commander Lincoln Lee, First Officer  
> Commander Peter Bishop, Chief Engineer and Third Officer

"Peter, the engineering quarterly report is late again." Lincoln sighed, trying to maintain some authority in the light of Bishop's sly grin. "You could at least pretend to care about procedure."

"What, and deny you the pleasure of coming down here to yell at me?" Peter shrugged, fiddling with a plasma conduit.

"You could delegate someone to write the report. All you have to do is sign it," Lincoln pointed out.

"And _you_ could've sent a message, instead of making the long trip from the Bridge in person." Peter turned toward him, smirking. "Maybe we're both just looking for excuses to get face-to-face. Or face to--"

"Is that safe?" Lincoln interrupted, pointing to the conduit hanging half out of the wall.

Peter frowned at him. "Huh? Yeah. I diverted power from this section to check on the plasma transfer rate."

"Which I would know," Lincoln said with no little satisfaction, "if I had the quarterly report detailing planned improvements in engineering."

Peter snorted, rolling his eyes. "Too minor to be on a report and you know it, so we're back to excuses." He took a step closer. "C'mon, Linc, admit it. You wanted to see me."

Lincoln swallowed hard. Peter was the only one who called him "Linc" in that tone of voice, teasing and seductive at the same time. It also would've been easier to maintain his composure if Peter was wrong. "If I concede to the premise, the reverse is also true."

"Sure, but I'm not the one who needs to play this game every time he wants to get laid." Peter's look turned direct, piercing. "Look, I'll get the report done. But just think about all the time we're wasting with-- _mmmph!_ "

Lincoln had been glancing around to make sure no one else was in range before he stepped in, stopping Peter's mouth with a firm kiss. He took a moment to savor the taste of Peter's tongue before stepping back. "Maybe we should set up a signal."

"Yeah. Swing by my quarters after alpha shift and we'll...discuss it." Peter's leer made it clear that discussion would be distinctly secondary to more interesting activities, but as far as Lincoln was concerned, they were on exactly the same page about that.


	4. Nick and Olivia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Captain Olivia Dunham  
> Lieutenant Nick Lane, Ship's Councilor

This didn't happen that often anymore. Or rather, Olivia didn't let this happen much anymore.

Nick's cabin was small but his alone; it sometimes doubled as his office when a crewmember didn't feel comfortable in an official setting. And of course, having his own room made it easier for him and Sally to find private time.

But another woman needed his attention tonight.

Olivia was outside his door. He didn't wait for the chime and said quietly, "Come in."

The door slid open and his captain stepped inside, the dark circles around her eyes attesting to the weariness she'd admit to no one else. "If you're too busy--" she started, already looking for an excuse to leave.

"For you, never." She knew it, too. "You know, you don't have to wait until you're falling over to see me."

"Maybe I should make an appointment," Olivia said tartly, but her heart wasn't in it. "Nick, I just...."

"Yeah. I know." He held out his hand and she came willingly, stepping into his space and sliding her arms around his back. "Stay and rest."

He could feel her wanting to object but the tension in her body was already lessening, the psychic bond wrapping around and enclosing them in a private bubble of space, the rest of the universe forgotten.

Nick took one step backward and then another, Olivia following reflexively. The back of his knees bumped against the chaise lounge and he eased them both down onto it. The bed would've been better but Olivia would definitely rouse herself to protest at that. Never mind what Sally might say if she found out.

"Sorry, Nicky," she muttered, but he just shushed her and tucked her head under his chin.

"Sleep, Olive."

"Just for a little bit," she murmured, but as her breathing slowed into a deep even pace Nick felt her body and mind finally relaxing.

He'd wake her before the end of gamma shift, so the crew didn't see their captain leaving a lieutenant's quarters during off-hours. She was already under so much scrutiny, it was the least Nick could do to keep from adding to the whispers. As if there wasn't already too much idle gossip about him and Olivia. But none of it even began to approach the truth.

Nick settled his cheek against her hair and listened to the other half of his heart breathe.


	5. Peter and Lt. Kashner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Commander Peter Bishop, Chief Engineer and Third Officer  
> Lieutenant JG Thomas Kashner, Transporter Chief

"Commander Bishop, I was wondering if I could talk to you. Off the record." Thomas Kashner fidgeted nervously, then made himself stand up straight. He hadn't graduated at the top of his class by being a wallflower. 

"Unofficially? Sure." Commander Bishop's easy smile was part of the reason Thomas has approached him instead of Commander Lee. He was more relevant to the question at hand, anyway. "At ease, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir." Thomas relaxed, but only marginally. Even off the record, he knew he was on thin ice. "I had a question regarding transporter procedure."

"Yeah?" Bishop asked lazily, seemingly taking the informal nature of this meeting to heart.

Thomas swallowed once and dove right in. "Sir, you take over the transporter controls every time the captain beams to or from the ship. Is...is that because you don't trust me with her safety?"

Bishop stared at him hard, but his voice was still deceptively casual. "If I--or more important, Starfleet Command--didn't trust you with any of our personnel, you wouldn't be wearing that uniform. So _trust_ isn't the issue." He paused a moment, then shrugged, giving Thomas a disarming smile. "Maybe you should think of my...interference...as job security. If something went wrong when the captain was using our transporter, it wouldn't be on your head."

It was a smooth answer, but too glib. "That's my job, sir. My responsibility." 

"And I'm not trying to undermine that. Just chalk it up to my personal quirk and not a comment on your performance." Bishop sounded like that was the last word on the subject, and Thomas had to accept it. 

"Yes sir." he paused, then went ahead with his other concern. "I've also been studying the record of Ensign James' transporter...accident."

"Spectacular, wasn't it." Bishop raised an eyebrow. "Won't happen again, since Cameron's exempt from using the transporter." 

"Forbidden" was more accurate, but that wasn't actually the point. "I was wondering if any of the other...trial subjects...might have similar issues."

Bishop straightened up, all pretense of camaraderie vanishing. "Your fellow officers have all been cleared for standard transport." 

There was a warning edge to his voice that Thomas knew he'd be wise to heed. But the footage had been so alarming, the incident so extreme-- "Ensign James almost died. The transporter circuits completely blew and the matrix nearly exploded. If that had happened, they might've lost a quarter of the ship, maybe more. If--"

Commander Bishop's voice turned hard. "A lot of 'ifs' in space travel, period. But if you have reservations about your crew mates, that's a bigger issue." 

"It's their abilities, sir," Thomas said, knowing how he sounded, that he might be putting his career on the line. Confidentiality only went so far. "There isn't a lot of documentation, so much is classified, there's no way to know...." he trailed off. There wasn't anything else to add, really.

Bishop was silent for a moment, which was probably better than immediate condemnation. When he spoke again, his voice was even. Thomas wasn't fooled, though. "Would you have issues serving next to a Vulcan? An Andorian? Even without being familiar with every aspect of their physiology?"

"...no," Thomas said, genuinely miserable, hearing himself and offering no defense. He had none.

"Well then," Bishop said, as if the issue was settled. It wasn't, not by a long shot, but Thomas knew he was already on the edge of an official reprimand. He'd tarnished his reputation with the commander, probably permanently. That was enough damage for one day.


	6. Olivia, Frank, and Emily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Captain Olivia Dunham  
> Lieutenant Commander Frank Stanton, Chief Medical Officer  
> Petty Officer First Class Emily Mallum, Captain's Yeoman

When Olivia's new yeoman first came to her, confessing to precognitive abilities and pleading for help in controlling them, Olivia swore that she'd do her best. She'd drawn on all the techniques for managing Cortexiphan abilities that Dr. Bishop had taught her and those she'd learned in the field since.

Tonight's session wasn't going well, though.

Emily was trying to deliberately access her ability, to no avail. Dr. Stanton sat back after another fruitless attempt, looking thoughtful. "You might talk to Ensign Phillips. He knows a lot about mental focusing techniques--"

"No!" Emily half-shouted, her voice holding a thin edge of panic. She recovered almost immediately, biting at her lip. "I'm sorry, I just, I don't want anyone else to know."

"Okay, Emily. We'll figure it out." Olivia smiled at the girl, hoping that was true. It'd taken considerable effort to convince Emily to agree to let Dr. Stanton in on her secret; Olivia didn't want to go through that argument again before it became absolutely necessary. She also didn't tell Emily that it was entirely possible that Simon had already discerned her ability, if she was projecting that "loudly." Nick also sensed her anxiety early on, but after learning the cause, Olivia had asked him to leave the girl to her.

But it was a good thing that Emily had agreed Frank's involvement. He'd done an advanced brain scan on the girl using a process developed through his work with Olivia and Nick and the other Cortexiphan subjects. The scan discovered a weak blood vessel buried deep in her brain. It would have burst eventually, Frank told Olivia later, causing a massive hemorrhagic stroke and probably death. He'd been able to proactively repair the blood vessel via delicate neurosurgery and scheduled Emily for regular follow-ups.

Now, Emily sighed and looked away. "I wish...I wish I could get a handle on it. So I could be useful to the ship."

"You're very useful," Frank said in a firm tone that invited no argument. "You remind the captain to eat and needle her until she does. That doesn't work for everyone, you know."

"It's true," Olivia said, picking up the thread. "I'd never get through all that Starfleet documentation if you didn't organize it for me."

Emily was shaking her head. "Yeah, but that's just my _job,_ " she protested, as if constantly keeping up with a Starfleet captain barely rated as an activity worthy of note. "If I could, I don't know, warn you if the ship was heading into danger or something...."

"When isn't it?" Olivia said wryly. "Emily, our abilities are helpful additional resources but they don't take the place of training and natural talent. And as far as your precognition goes, the best advice I have is: don't force it, it'll happen."

Emily made a face, then nodded. "Okay. I guess stressing out about it is...counterproductive, right?" 

Olivia tried to suppress her surprise but Emily caught her out and grinned. "I listen. And, um, if we're not going to get any further with this tonight, I need to rearrange some of your scheduling for this week." She sighed with the manner of someone several times her age. "Everyone wants a meeting and they all want it now."

"Well, that certainly takes precedence. Dismissed, Yeoman Mallum," Olivia said, barely holding back a laugh. Once the girl had gone she glanced over at Frank and chuckled. "I think she'll be fine."

"Fine, or 'fine'?" Frank asked, mirroring her irony from a moment ago but softening it with a smile. "She doesn't need to pick up on your bad habits."

Olivia rolled her eyes and got to her feet. "This wasn't my appointment."

"Can't blame me for seizing a moment when you refuse to make one. How are you sleeping?" Frank cocked his head at her, frowning. "Or should I ask 'are you sleeping?'"

"Better most nights. Honestly." Frank looked doubtful but Olivia held up her hand in an old Earth gesture indicating she was telling the truth. "Captain's oath on it."

Frank sighed but seemed to take her at her word. He knew when to make a strategic concession, too.


	7. Astrid and Brandon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lieutenant Commander Brandon Fayette, Chief Science Officer  
> Lieutenant Astrid Farnsworth, Communications Officer

"Commander Fayette? Do you have a few minutes?"

Brandon looked up from his quiet station in the Astrophysics lab to see Lieutenant Farnsworth. It was after duty hours, so she clearly wasn't here on official business. "Uh, yes...?"

She tilted her head and smiled at him, quite a charming expression. "I thought your presentation today was interesting and I wanted to follow up."

He blinked at her, confused. Her personnel file hadn't mentioned advanced mathematics study. "Did-- did you have an interest in quantum mechanics?"

She shrugged slightly, maybe a little sheepishly. "The math's a bit much. But we know that parallel universes exist, and I was fascinated by the possibilities. If you have time to answer some questions?"

"Oh! Of course." That was one of his favorite things, explicating scientific theories for the crew. They couldn't all be physicists, of course. But as far as he was concerned, anyone who didn't have a healthy interest in the wonders of the galaxy (and beyond) didn't have any business exploring it. 

And then his mouth got ahead of his brain and he blurted out, "I thought you usually spent the evening with Dr. Stanton." He blanched as soon as he said it, regretting the inappropriateness of the suggestion.

Lieutenant Farnsworth just smiled at him, though. "We're not attached at the hip." And then she added, "I haven't had dinner yet, would you like to join me?" and Brandon had to forcibly remind himself that she was interested in the science, not in him. That was the way it should be.


	8. Sally Clark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ensign Sally Clark, Security
> 
> Occurs after "Nick and Olivia" chapter.

Sally let herself into Nick's quarters. He'd messaged that he had an appointment with a crewman and wouldn't be able to meet her until late, but that was okay. She had some studying to do.

Security had been a natural assignment, with her Cortexiphan powers and all, but Sally considered the division--frankly--a dead-end job. If not an actual dead end, given how many security officers died each year on away missions. So far the _Bell_ was way below the average in total fatalities, but Sally figured it was only a matter of time before the odds caught up. And sure, everybody respected Lieutenant Commander Francis, but he'd come out of Federation Security and had a whole career there first. 

So she'd been trying to decide on a career path, with Nick's input. This week she'd been researching the Advanced Tactical Training program, and what it would take to (first) be recommended for the class and (second) actually complete the course, when half the trainees washed out every year. Sally had done well in all the basic tactical classes at the Academy and the prestige won by succeeding in the ATT program would get her noticed. Maybe even by Starfleet Intelligence.

But that path might take her away from Nick, and Sally wasn't willing to accept that possibility. Not now, maybe not ever.

Or she could bite the bullet and go back to the Academy for helm officer training. That was guaranteed job security without the danger of constantly beaming down into unknown situations. Not half as exciting, though.

Restless, she stood up to pace through Nick's small cabin. Something caught her eye and Sally squinted, then bent down to pick a thread up off the couch.

Not a thread. A strand of hair. A long, straight, blonde hair.

She had to breathe deeply, immediately resorting to a calming technique. It probably wasn't _her_ hair, and even if it was--

_She_ was the captain and had every right to visit here. Probably more than most. And even if she'd sat here, it didn't mean anything. Nick had told Sally, again and again, that his relationship with Olivia Dunham was special but no threat to her.

Sally believed him. She honestly did. She just didn't _understand_ it. 

She narrowed her eyes and the air filled with the brief acrid stink of burnt hair before the atmospheric filters whisked it away.


	9. Olivia and Peter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Captain Olivia Dunham  
> Commander Peter Bishop, Chief Engineer and Third Officer

Olivia wandered through Engineering, nodding and stating "As you were" to the various crew members' attempts to leap to attention. She hadn't come down here with any particular destination in mind, but the covert glances toward an especially dark corner of the section drew her attention.

She rounded a bulkhead to see Commander Bishop and Ensign Okonkwo sitting next to a crude device. Liquid was bubbling from a large container through tubes and collecting in a glass beaker. She heard Peter say with satisfaction, "There we go." 

At least it was his off-shift.

Ensign Okonkwo scrambled to his feet when he saw her, saluting hastily. She waved him away and he dashed off, leaving her with Peter.

Olivia looked over the mechanism curiously. "That's technically illegal, isn't it. Misuse of Starfleet equipment and so on."

"Yep."

"Hmm." Peter still hadn't stirred, maybe daring her to place an official reprimand in his file. She considered him for a moment, then pointed to the stack of shot glasses next to the still. "I can't properly determine the extent of the offense until I've thoroughly investigated."

Peter smirked and filled one of the glasses to the rim, handing it over to her. Olivia took a meditative sip, her nose wrinkling as the burn hit the back of her throat. "Peter, that's terrible." She threw the rest back and held out her glass. "Hit me again."

"Doesn't actually improve with familiarity, but you won't care," Peter told her. He refilled her glass and his own. "Not that you need a reason, but what's the occasion?"

Olivia took the ensign's abandoned seat, careful not to spill the liquid. It might eat through a bulkhead. "Has this stuff got a name?"

Peter raised an eyebrow at her deflection, but let it go. "Engine room hooch."

"Appropriate." Olivia took another taste. He was right; it didn't get any better. "But I know you have better stashed away, including at least a couple bottles of Romulan ale. So what's the point of this?"

"The doing of the thing. Because I can." He eyed her over his glass. "Until you say I can't."

"And then you'd find a way to do it anyway," she said, philosophically. 

"Nah. When I go off the reservation, I want it to be for something meaningful." Peter grinned and saluted her, tossing back his drink and setting the glass upside-down. "This was just an interesting project. Nice to do something that doesn't involve plasma relays."

"And the corruption of junior officers, that's just a bonus?" Olivia finished the glass and handed it back, shaking her head against his offer of more.

Peter laughed, starting to switch off the still's mechanisms. "Keeps them out of worse trouble."

"So there's more than one collaborator in on your little operation?" Olivia stood and then blinked, swaying noticeably. "That's...potent."

Her chief engineer got up, not appreciably any more steady on his feet. "Happy to lend an arm, Captain."

Olivia straightened up, smirking. "It'd take more than that to put me down, Bishop." She turned and walked away, keeping a perfectly straight line, smiling at the sound of Peter's mixed curses and laughter behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://memory-beta.wikia.com/wiki/Engine_room_hooch


	10. Astrid/Frank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lieutenant Commander Frank Stanton, Chief Medical Officer  
> Lieutenant Astrid Farnsworth, Communications Officer

Quiet nights aboard the _Bell_ weren't to be wasted. Not unexpectedly Astrid had ended up in Frank's quarters, enjoying the momentary peace in congenial company. But even after a lovely dinner and reciprocally enjoyable exercise, her mind just wouldn't rest.

"I had dinner with Brandon Fayette the other day," she said abruptly, not sure why she was confessing. It hadn't been a date, and she and Frank weren't exclusive anyway. "I was asking him about the parallel universe, and eventually we got to talking about his work at Massive Dynamic."

"That's good." Frank was quiet for a moment and she could feel him picking his words carefully. "He's...not very social, so it's nice that you were able to draw him out a little."

Astrid smiled against his chest. Frank was so concerned about every member of the crew, and so careful about not divulging privileged information. Hints slipped through anyway. Brandon couldn't have earned his rank if he had any kind of serious social disorder, but shyness and awkwardness still set him apart from most of the extroverted crew. Astrid liked a challenge. 

She felt Frank lift his head and turned her neck to look back at him. He had on that expression, the one where he knew something relevant to the conversation but felt restrained by his professional oaths not to reveal it. "I’ll tread lightly," she ventured, and Frank nodded, seeming relieved.

"He probably talks to Peter Bishop the most," Frank volunteered. "I don't know if it's about anything personal."

"Peter did some work for Nina Sharp too," Astrid mused. "So they have that in common."

"I've consulted with him quite a bit on the Cortexiphan project. Brandon was able to recover some of the 'lost' records." He sighed and Astrid thought he might elaborate, but Frank just shook his head and she thought it prudent to change the subject.

"I think," Astrid said, surprising herself, "I'm going to apply to Command School."

Frank blinked and sat up, dislodging her, and pulled her into his lap. "Is that something you've been thinking about?"

"A little, yeah." She half-shrugged, half-smiled. "I can do most of the coursework via the distance learning program, so it's only a month at the Academy for the sim training at the end. I've been looking over the reqs and it doesn't look too bad. The tactical training is the only part I haven't done much of."

"Astrid, that's fantastic. You absolutely should." Frank kissed her forehead, like a blessing. "I'm sure Charlie'd be delighted to tutor you if you have questions. Were you thinking of trying for your own command?" 

Astrid bit her lip. "Not really? It's more, that'll give me the best-rounded coursework, and I like learning new things. I like...being useful."

She'd have felt silly saying that to anyone but Frank, who just nodded like he understood. Of course he did. That was one of the reasons they got along so well.

"And I was talking to Nyota over subspace, and she's already started the program. ...I'm not just doing it because she is," she said with a grin, before Frank could ask. "She's got a different focus, different goals. But I like the idea that I could be helpful around any part of the ship. I like the idea that Olivia can depend on me."

"She already does," Frank said. "And anything I can do to help, let me know."

She smiled at him, looking coyly through her eyelashes. "Well, it _is_ a lot of work. Won't leave me much time for extracurricular activities once I start."

Frank grinned back at her. "So it'd be best to enjoy your free time while we can."

"Enjoy" was a mild term for the rest of their evening, but Astrid had better things to do than argue semantics.


	11. Simon Phillips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ensign Simon Phillips, Navigator

The ship was so _loud._

Not in a way anyone else would notice, except maybe Nick Lane. The cost of serving aboard the _Bell_ was an almost-constant low-grade migraine, a price Simon paid willingly. Dr. Stanton provided meds to manage the pain, but Simon preferred not to take them unless the ship was in a situation where his complete focus was critical. He carried a relief hypo with him, relying on meditation most of the time. 

Sometimes the discipline eluded him. So many thoughts bombarded him from all directions, whispering at the edge of his consciousness. He couldn't discern the specifics unless he actively concentrated; he constantly had to assure his crewmates that he wasn't reading their minds. But he could still "hear" all of them except his fellow Cortexiphan subjects, blessed oases of quiet. And oddly, Rec Chief Sam Weiss. He was one of those occasional humans completely immune to psychic phenomena. 

Even with the whispers, the ship was still better than Earth. Not as quiet as Vulcan, of course, but despite the very generous invitation from the _kolinahr_ masters Simon had decided not to stay. He'd missed his own kind, noisy as they were. And when Olivia Dunham won her ship, Simon couldn't resist the call. None of the Cortexiphan subjects who opted for a career in Starfleet could have. 

The opportunity to serve, to demonstrate the usefulness of his abilities and his life, made any pain worth enduring.


	12. Nick/Sally [After Hours]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lieutenant Nick Lane, Ship's Councilor  
> Ensign Sally Clark, Security

Sally loved doing this. She'd always loved this particular act, but it was especially satisfying now. 

She kissed her way down Nick's belly, feeling it clench in anticipation beneath her touch.

Sally leaned in for the first taste, her tongue barely swiping over the tip of his cock. She knew what he liked, she'd made an intensive study. She knew how to draw out his pleasure, leave him gasping on the edge for hours.

She loved doing this because she loved him, because she loved feeling what she did to him. She'd know how much he was enjoying himself even without Nick's ability reflecting his pleasure back at her, making her as hot as he is. Hotter. She'll come before he even touches her, getting off on her manipulation of his body.

But these days when she touched Nick, when she stroked over the smoothest skin and the hardness underneath, when she tasted and licked and sucked....

She knew that Olivia felt it all. Or maybe not _all,_ Sally wasn't sure of the extent of the bond between Nick and Olivia, but _enough._ Enough that she was pretty sure Olivia knew what was going on and couldn't do a damn thing about it; enough that Olivia will understand this is something only Sally could do for Nick, that she had the ability to make him feel this good in a way Olivia never could.

Maybe it took a pyrokinetic to know that revenge was best served hot.


	13. Peter/Lincoln II [After Hours]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Commander Lincoln Lee, First Officer  
> Commander Peter Bishop, Chief Engineer and Third Officer

There was no banter today. Just the two of them up against a bulkhead in a dark corner of the ship, hard and hot.

Peter had ambushed him in a rarely traveled corridor, one of the long maintenance passageways Lincoln liked to walk when he was thinking over a problem. He wasn't considering anything dire, just some scheduling and minor repair issues. But Peter's presence meant he'd gone out of the way to have the computer track him down, which meant....

Lincoln could not possibly care any less what it meant at the moment, not with Peter's mouth working a bruise onto his throat, just below where it might show if his tunic dipped even a little.

This was a ridiculous risk. Neither of them could pretend that their...whatever this was...was a complete secret. As long as no one made a complaint, as long as Olivia had plausible deniability, they were in the clear. They might technically not be breaking any official regulations but the unofficial ones were unambiguous about not dating within the chain of command, particularly for senior officers. Which for Lincoln (and Olivia) meant everyone on board. The potential reprimand would have another pretext and one of them might even be assigned off the ship.

Or maybe he was being overly paranoid. Starfleet understood the human factor. There were too many hurdles for official sanction unless a couple was really committed. Unofficial liaisons were the rule, rather than the exception. And in the isolated pressure-cooker environment of a starship, impossible to control. 

Lincoln decided that control was overrated as his head thumped against the wall.


	14. Astrid/Frank II [After Hours]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lieutenant Commander Frank Stanton, Chief Medical Officer  
> Lieutenant Astrid Farnsworth, Communications Officer

Astrid batted at Frank's head, giggling. "Stop! Stop."

Frank grinned at her from between her legs. "Already?"

She fell back onto the pillows, groaning. "Five orgasms. You win. No, I win. You're right, the tongue is the strongest muscle."

"You have to trust me on these things, I'm a doctor. And you don't get accepted to Command School every day. Go for six?" Frank murmured, and dipped his head again.

" _Stop._ Get up here." She tugged at his hair--he really needed a haircut but she'd never suggest it, she liked the shaggy-dog look on him--and Frank slid upward, his cock tracing a wet line along her leg. Astrid moaned as he slid into her and wrapped her legs around his waist. They rocked together and six was a distinct probability, after all.


	15. Olivia/John [After Hours]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Captain Olivia Dunham  
> Captain John Scott
> 
> Could occur shortly after Elfin's fic "[Open the Skies](http://archiveofourown.org/works/766287)."

The _Bell_ and the _Dauntless_ met at Starbase 10, both ships scheduled for standard repairs, resupply, and shore leave. Olivia's ship arrived near the end of the other's layover to avoid overwhelming the station's resources, but the two-day overlap still granted an opportunity for the two crews to mingle. The timing wasn't an accident; Starfleet liked the personnel from different commands to meet, exchange stories, and generally remember they were all part of a larger organization dedicated to the same goals. Crews in isolation tended to develop funny ideas about their importance in the scheme of things.

The fact that it was the _Dauntless_ in port gave Olivia pause, just for a moment. Running into an ex was never easy. But in this case, she and this particular ex had an understanding.

They met with a restrained exchange of "Captain Scott" to "Captain Dunham" and everything was very civilized, especially the moment when John invited Olivia to a perfectly appropriate private dinner. Starship captains were expected to discuss relevant matters and exchange information.

Olivia was pretty sure information wasn't the only exchange John had in mind and frankly, she was more than okay with that.

She had to give him credit: there was, actually, a prepared dinner waiting when she showed up in his quarters at the station. Olivia stopped in the doorway, unable to keep a broad smirk from her face.

John knew her well enough to understand why. His lips twisted into a wry smile. "You didn't think I'd feed you first?"

"'First,'" she mocked, "so presumptuous."

He grinned at her in that knowing, infuriating way he had, and pulled out a chair for her to sit.

The food was good, even if Olivia wasn't much interested in it. The conversation was more intriguing, nearly distracting them both from the ultimate purpose of the evening. The _Dauntless_ had been quietly investigating a series of disturbing incidents on Federation starbases and ships, a seemingly random group of occurrences that were starting to form a distinctly alarming pattern.

"Sabotage?" she asked quietly, and John made a face.

"That's for the brains at Starfleet Intelligence to determine. I'm still gathering information." He glanced across the table at her. "But you're going to ask what I think, and yeah, gut instinct says it's all related." He paused for a long moment and added, "I think what happened on the _Hartford_ was part of it, but don't pass that onto Commander Lee yet."

Sometimes being the captain meant holding terrible secrets. After a moment Olivia nodded reluctantly. "You'll tell me as soon as you have proof. Lincoln deserves to know."

"You'll be my second call." John got up and went over to a side table. He poured a neat glass of amber liquid from a familiar bottle and held it out to her. "If I remember right, this is your poison."

She crossed over to him and took the glass, clinking it against his. They drank and Olivia savored the burn of the whiskey. "You always remember."

John leaned back against the cabinet, looking at her. "What do you want, Liv?"

Olivia let out a short, sharp breath and the words tumbled after. "I want orgasms. Many, many orgasms. Enough so I forget how long it's been since I had one in the company of another person. Enough to hold me over for however many months it is until I have a chance like this again." She stopped and blinked, a little surprised at what had come out of her mouth. 

John was laughing at her, damn him. "You always did take self-denial too far."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Like you're any better off." The statement held irony; she'd been an officer under John's command when they first started their affair. But she knew he'd taken the lessons they'd both learned to heart and refrained from that kind of indulgence since.

"So why are we wasting time?" John held out his hand and sighed to Olivia's hesitation. "We made a deal, it still stands. No strings until you say otherwise. Sorry, 'unless' you say otherwise."

The slip was nearly enough to make her reconsider. But it really had been too long, and Olivia knew John would keep his promise.


	16. Girls' Night [After Hours]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ensign Lian Chen, Communications beta shift  
> Ensign Sally Clark, Security  
> Ensign Jill Ruiz, Engineering  
> Ensign Thecla, Navigator beta shift, Andorian  
> Petty Officer First Class Emily Mallum, Captain's Yeoman  
> Petty Officer Second Class Sinead Rossi, Diagnostic and Repair Technician  
> Crewman First Class Krista Manning, Yeoman  
> Crewman Third Class Sonia Francis, Yeoman

Organizing a gathering was difficult when the participants were scattered across three duty shifts, but Lian was determined. Her roommate gamely went along with the plan, taking on the responsibility of verbally delivering the invitations. Lian was grateful for her help; Jill wasn't really much on planned social events, but she also understood the need to blow off steam every once in awhile.

Besides, there was no better way to get closer to your shipmates than by dishing about the rest of them. All in good fun, of course.

Sinead came over early to help Lian set up while Jill was finishing out her swapped shift. "Ugh, I need this. _Someone_ decided that every last circuit on the ship needed to be tested. I've been crawling through Jefferies tubes all day."

Lian made a sympathetic noise, privately taking mental note. She had ambitions toward her own ship one day, and she knew that officers didn't give frivolous orders--there had to be a reason for the inspection. But she could also sympathize with Technician Rossi's frustration. Sometimes explanations got lost between the upper decks and the enlisted crew. 

"Well, we're just about ready. Krista's bringing snacks and I've got plenty of synthehol."

Sinead eyed her. "Any real stuff?"

Lian grinned. "Enough for everyone to have a taste, at least." She waved toward the assembled motley grouping of containers: a half-carafe of Andorian ale donated by Ensign Thecla, a hoarded mouthful of Saurian brandy she was reserving for herself, and an actual bottle of Kentucky bourbon that Lian had decided Ensign Mallum must have "borrowed" from the captain's personal stash. "No Romulan ale, sadly."

Sinead snorted. "Like you'd waste it on this lot if you had any."

Guests started arriving. No commissioned officers above the rank of ensign permitted, that was the rule; the rest were noncoms of various grades. The captain's yeoman had been invited only on vows of the strictest confidence and now Emily sat with her drink, smiling quietly, enjoying the rare company of her peers. The "No men allowed" rule had been hotly debated, but eventually they all decided that everyone would feel more comfortable with others of more-or-less the same gender. (Ensign Thecla was _zhen_ and female by most classifications.)

There'd been some uncomfortable discussion about certain other members of the crew, but Sinead declared that she'd overheard Sally Clark cursing over a glitch in a phaser bank relay "and believe me, that woman has the filthiest mouth I've ever heard on a human being. We want her here."

Jill came off shift and rushed to change while Lian made small talk with their guests. Sally and Thecla and Emily all seemed pleased by the gathering, and doubly so when Krista showed up with a tray of savory pastries and apple turnovers still hot out of the oven.

"Door locked?"

Lian gave Sinead an irritated look. Trust Sinead to always look for a flaw. "Yeah, unless some superior officer orders it open, so let's make sure to keep it down." She grinned at the others. "The question of the evening, ladies: who would you go for, if you had the chance?"

She'd barely voiced the question before there was a chime at the door. They all blinked at each other and Lian frowned; she hadn't been expecting anyone else. The only invitee not present was Jasmine Higgins, because she had a previous engagement for "family night" at her quarters. 

Jill got up to look. "It's Sonia Francis."

Sinead groaned. "Security chief's wife? No way. She'll rat us out."

But Sonia was holding a bottle of something green up to the door and that was enough to buy her entry. Besides, everyone liked Sonia; she tried really, really hard to keep the crew's spirits up. A little too hard sometimes, but you couldn't fault the woman for trying.

"Grab a drink and a seat," Lian told her, examining the offered bottle. Aldebaran whiskey, nice. "I'll start: if I had my pick of the men on this ship, I'd be all over Commander Lee in a heartbeat."

"You'd have to get in line," Sally said dryly. 

Sonia laughed, her voice ringing through the cabin. "Oh, this game. Anyone got a lech for my husband? Wouldn't blame you, he's a total fox." Sinead sheepishly put her hand up and Sonia beamed. "Excellent taste. I mean, I'd gut you if you tried anything, but points for good judgment."

"Well, you must understand that the males aboard this ship are not appealing to me on anything other than an aesthetic level...." Thecla began, and then grinned. "Nor the females either, for that matter. Yet on the whole, I find many of the crew visually pleasing."

Krista piped up, her voice dreamy. "Commander Bishop...."

Lian gave her a sympathetic smile. "Everyone knows about your thing for the commander. Give it up, Krista. He's only got eyes for the captain."

"And dick for the first officer," Sinead said, ostensibly sotto voce, but the sputters and giggles from around the room made it clear that she'd neglected to moderate her volume.

"That's just a rumor," Krista said hotly. "No one's ever proved anything."

"The way the bounty on a pic keeps going up, though, it's just a matter of time." Lian sipped appreciatively at her brandy. "But it's understandable, they're both hot. What I don't get is how the captain can keep her hands off either of them. Or both."

"Self-control." Sally proclaimed firmly, almost reluctantly. "She...doesn't want to put either of them in a compromising position." She smirked slightly, diffusing the slight tension her input had caused. "Any more than they're putting themselves in, that is."

Krista sat back sulking while the others laughed.

But Lian knew how it felt to fall for an unobtainable officer and thought it'd be best if she directed the focus of the conversation elsewhere. She pointed at Sally, shaking her head. "Sally, you can't criticize, you've got yourself a total hottie."

"A girl's still got eyes." Sally leaned forward, her voice dropping to a confidential whisper. "And Dr. Stanton, he's got really great hands."

There was a general murmur of agreement around the room.

"Well, if I wasn't happily married," Sonia declared, "I'd...shit, I'd still go for Charlie." She shrugged at their groans and ducked the random small objects thrown her way. Lian was interested to note that Sonia wasn't drinking, despite her generous gift.

"The captain." 

The voice came from a previously quiet corner of the room, and after a second, nearly everyone erupted again with enthusiastic agreement. (Lian saw Sally press her lips tightly together and drink over the commotion.) Jill grinned at the response. 

Sinead nodded enthusiastically. "Well, if I was considering switching orientation...yeah, the captain. And you seen Jessup, in Security? Total sexy hard ass."

"I think Ensign Phillips is pretty cute," Emily said hesitantly, and Sally whirled around to beam at her.

"Yeah? Listen, I could set you up--" but her face fell at the sight of Emily's frantically waving hands.

"No, no, it's okay, I don't want to...I just want to do my job," Emily finished weakly.

"Doesn't mean you can't have a social life." Sally leaned back, seemingly letting it go, but Lian saw the look on Sally's face that meant she was plotting. Well, good. But that reminded her of a question that she'd been wanting to ask and there was no better time.

"Spill, Clark. Lane's empathy...that's got more uses than counseling, doesn't it."

Sally started to laugh, long and hard. The rest of them shot curious glances between each other and waited for her answer.

"Well...let's put it this way. Is there any ability or invention that humans _haven't_ tried to use for sex?" Sally drained her glass and put it down, smirking. "Anything more would be telling."

The rest of them all started talking at once, over each other. Sally grinned harder at the commotion and made a zipping motion over her mouth.

Thecla looked around with satisfaction. "This is, I think, an extremely valuable cultural exchange. I feel I understand you all much better now."

"Honey, we haven't even _begun_ to educate you," Sinead said, and stared at the others with a challenging expression. "The real question is, what do you want to do with your pick? In detail."

Lian laughed and opened up another bottle of synthehol. It was gonna be a good night.


End file.
